


Something Blue

by theclaravoyant



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: AOS Fic Net 2.0's New Year Exchange, Chinese Culture, Culture Sharing, F/F, Fluff, Found Family, Gen, Platonic Relationships, Wedding, Women of Shield, shameless fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-01
Updated: 2018-01-01
Packaged: 2019-02-26 03:12:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,732
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13226913
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theclaravoyant/pseuds/theclaravoyant
Summary: Of course Daisy is excited for her wedding, and madly in love, but May's input brings a special something to ensure that Daisy's big day is more than she ever could have dreamed.





	Something Blue

**Author's Note:**

  * For [26stars](https://archiveofourown.org/users/26stars/gifts).



> Happy New Year! I know this wasn't quite what you prompted, but thinking about something Daisy wouldn't have got to do with her mother when she was younger got me thinking about the [Slipping Through My Fingers scene from Mama Mia ](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Zi7OXmTmgGg) and one thing led to another and here we are! It was my pleasure to write for you and I hope you enjoy it :D

“OW! Motherfucker!” 

Daisy flinched, and went to slap the offending pin on instinct before realising that doing so would, of course, be counterintuitive. Coulson obediently raised the tray of pins again, with a sarcastic yet fond smile at May.

“They grow up so fast, don’t they?” he mused, not-entirely-faux wistfully.

“You know,” Jemma interrupted, piping up from the other side of the partition. “The pinning actually does work better when somebody else does it.”

“I must agree with your fiancée there.” With a bright, amused smile, their attendant swanned around from Jemma’s side to theirs. She went by the name of Li Na Wen, and as owner of this fine establishment, prized the fact that elegance was, literally, in her name. She hadn’t as yet failed to deliver, so Daisy tried not to sound too irritable when she insisted:

“I can do it myself.” 

Of course, the moment she dropped her arms she was forced to concede that Jemma was, unsurprisingly, right: just the movement required to pin herself in had disturbed the lines of the dress so much that now, standing normally, the bust was alternately pinched and sagging in all the wrong places. 

In her defence, Daisy reminded herself, it wasn’t as though she’d had much tailoring done before. None, in fact. Still, she scowled at herself in the mirror and went to readjust her pins again, hoping that perhaps there was some kind of temporary fabric marker she could use to be sure she got the right spot – and that somebody would magically read her mind and offer it to her. Just then, May stepped up to take the pin tray from Coulson.

“We’ll take it from here I think,” she promised. “Get us some tea, Phil?”

“Women’s business?” Coulson teased. “No problem. I’ll see what I can do about dinner, too.”

“Good man.” Daisy gave him a brief salute as he took his leave. In truth, while he was eager to help her and Jemma with their preparations, the knee-aching, shoulder-straining, extremely repetitive tedium of a dress fitting must have been at least as boring to him as it would be to her if she weren’t getting such a remarkable dress out of it. 

On the other side of the partition, Jemma grinned. 

“This is so exciting!” she cried, swirling her soft golden skirt in front of the mirror. “I can’t wait for you to see it.” 

“Say nothing!” Daisy demanded. “Day of. You promised.” 

“I know, I know,” Jemma assured her – the fond eye-roll almost audible. 

May smiled to herself, and let Daisy’s skirt drop free. Near-midnight blue, its rich jewel tone set off well against her pale skin and dark features. It had a simple, elegant bodice and an Empire waist skirt that dropped down almost to the floor – matching Jemma’s but for the colour, not that she was to know that. It was understated, yet stunning, and the colour scheme – blue and gold, that much she did know - seemed just unusual, and just celestial enough, to capture the spirit of her and Jemma in amongst the classicism they wanted to keep. It was perfect, really. It should have been perfect. Yet when Jemma asked:

“What about you? How’s yours?” 

All Daisy had to say was; “I love it.”

And she did, she really did. She just thought she’d be losing her shit about it by now. Weird. Maybe she was just nervous. Besides, it was Jemma she was more interested in seeing anyway.

Then, out of the corner of her eye, Daisy saw May press her lips together. Just slightly, but enough to notice. Her stomach tightened. (See? Nervous.)

“What?” she fretted. “You don’t like it?” 

“It’s beautiful,” May said – earnest, but only earnest, in much the same way Daisy had been. “But if it’s not speaking to you, I do have another idea.” 

Daisy pouted, contemplating. She pinched at the collar of the dress, pulling it up and then down again, but when the position and shape still didn’t hit that magic spot that sent her head-over-heels in love, she turned back to face May. 

“Is it going to mess up the colour scheme?” 

“Not irreparably.”

“What’s wrong?” Jemma piped in from the other side. She just had the slightest tremor of anxiety in her tone – the wedding was rapidly approaching and this was supposed to be heading toward final fittings. Surely there wasn’t enough time to redo it all! “Daisy?”

“It’s fine, babe,” Daisy assured her. “Just trying something.” 

May nodded, taking this as her cue, and entered a hushed conversation with Li Na in Mandarin. Daisy watched, intrigued, though their words flew by too fast for her to catch them. 

“Should I change?” Jemma offered. “Want me to come ‘round and help?” 

“No, we’ve got it,” Daisy promised. “Weren’t you going to check out the jewellery and clips and stuff for your hair?”

“Only if you’re sure.” 

“I’m sure.” 

“Try for something red,” May suggested. 

“Red?” The confusion was evident in Jemma’s voice. 

“Red?” Daisy wondered at the same time, before her eyes caught sight of the material that Li Na had just brought in. It was a vibrant red, like Christmas or fireworks, and her jaw must have slackened because May looked distinctly pleased with herself. Li Na beamed warmly and offered it forward for Daisy’s perusal. 

“May…” Daisy murmured absently, reaching out to stroke the material. “What the hell- ah, sorry…” 

“If you like the colour, we do have a number of cheongsam dresses of various lengths and skirt cuts,” Li Na explained, “but the pantsuit is actually quite popular, particularly amongst couples such as yourself and Miss Simmons. Ms May suggested that this would be your preference. We have different colours also, but red is blessed. Good for weddings.”

Despite being quite a sharp statement of colour, Daisy was pleased to find the suit soft to the touch without being unspeakably fragile. She pinched it between her fingers, and found it pleasantly light, but not so waiflike that she’d feel naked. The colour was bold, but it stood out against the warm tones of her skin. By this point, she was practically drooling. 

“If there was any day to stand around looking pretty,” May piped in, “it would be today, but I think we may just save Jemma from having an aneurism if we give her some sort of answer soon.” 

“Look for something red, babe,” Daisy confirmed. “I think I’m in love.”

“I certainly hope so,” Jemma replied, “or else Tuesday’s going to be terribly awkward.” 

With that she left them to it, and May and Li Na helped Daisy out of her blue dress and into the red pantsuit. It had a mandarin collar, which Daisy had always loved as part of her catsuit uniform, and which seemed to demolish any potential notion of informality offered by the fact that it didn’t have sleeves. And so it shouldn’t, Daisy thought, grinning to herself as she admired it in the mirror: she’d worked long and hard on these guns, and if she could look classy – dashing, even - sexy as all hell, and buff enough to lift a small horse all at the same time, then that was fine by her. Fine by Jemma too, no doubt. 

“Now,” Li Na added, “if we just leave a little more room in the shoulders and take in the bust here…” 

She pinched, unzipped and shuffled the appropriate places so that the lines cradled Daisy’s shape correctly, and Daisy stared, awestruck. This is what it should have felt like from the start, she realised. This is what she had been looking for; a feeling of such happiness and satisfaction that she could cry. Her heart felt as big and full and overwhelmed as it had when Jemma had said yes – and now she understood why Jemma had been bugging her to let down the partition all morning. All she wanted was to run to the other side and show it off. 

“What are you smiling about?” May teased. 

“I’m getting married.” 

\-- 

“I’m getting _married,”_ Daisy murmured. “Holy shit, I’m actually doing this.”

Artfully outlined eyes and strawberry-red lips looked back at her, the latter slowly curving into a smile as the thrill of anticipation ran through her. The next time she saw Jemma it would be at the other end of a white carpet trimmed with gold. It would be surrounded by a flourish of red and gold. Fitz would be crying. Coulson would be crying. Heck, even Daisy had to tell herself how much the mascara cost over and over again to stop herself from crying.

“Are you ready?” May asked. 

“Well, for someone with my levels of attachment disorder I’ve been pretty low on the freak-out scale wouldn’t you say?” Daisy quipped, even though it felt like her hands should be shaking by now. They weren’t – too well trained – but they felt like they should be. Excitement buzzed through her veins like a sugar rush. “But no, my hair isn’t done yet. Nearly. I tried to do something fancy with it but I don’t know anymore. I think it’s too short. I just want it down.” 

“Then down it is.”

May picked up a comb and started stroking through it with her usual deftness. Earlier in their relationship, Daisy would have expected May to be one of those people who simply raked at the hair without mercy and expected people not to cry. Used it as some sort of black ops training. But now, it didn’t quite surprise her when May performed with, if not a gentle touch, then one that was at least efficient and pain-minimising; stopping briefly to target tricky knots with her fingers where necessary rather than just ploughing straight through. 

Catching sight of Daisy watching her in the mirror, May snorted a little puff of air – apparently, amused. 

“It’s not that deep,” she said. 

“Isn’t it?” 

Daisy was not sure what made her say it. Instinct? Wit? A need to be contrary in times of stress? Or was it the expression on May’s face, that Daisy could read even better than she herself had thought? Either way, after that, May made enough of a hesitation in her combing for Daisy to notice. Anyone would have. It was a good second and a half, as if an actress had forgotten her lines, until May said, “Sorry,” as if she’d simply had an errant thought, and continued on. 

“What?” Daisy pressed. 

A little reluctantly, May explained: 

“In China, we have a hair combing… ceremony, like this. There’s similar things in popular media all over the place, I’m not saying we invented brushing hair –“ 

“- although I wouldn’t be surprised,” Daisy put in. 

“- but in China it’s really special. It’s part of the wedding preparation – the night before, usually. Somebody is supposed to brush the bride’s hair, recite a blessing… it marks the bride’s coming of age, of sorts. Sends them on a new path with the guidance of past generations. That sort of thing.”

“Do you know the blessings?” Daisy asked. “You can bless me if you want.” 

May shook her head. “I shouldn’t. It’s supposed to be done by a Woman of Good Fortune - one with a husband, children, and grandchildren. I’d only jinx it.” 

“I don’t think so,” Daisy insisted. “You’re still alive, that’s pretty good fortune, having experienced what we have. What- what you have.”  
  
Her voice crackled and she winced away from it, then felt a tear spill over her cheek. Cursed to herself. But while they were here and she had to wipe the canvas anyway, she figured, she might as well dive in. 

“Look, I – I know you wanted that stuff, before Bahrain. I’m really sorry it got taken away from you. But if it helps, I… love you. I wouldn’t be where I am without you. Hell, I know for a fact I wouldn’t be alive without you. None of us would, probably. That’s some good fortune right there. Plus, Jemma and I aren’t planning to have kids anyway, so, if I have to settle for a Woman of Mad Skillz to send me forward with the knowledge of my ancestors, then that’s fine with me.” 

May took a deep breath. Slowly. 

Eventually, she said: “Thank you. That means a lot.” 

Then she finished brushing Daisy’s hair in silence, moving much more slowly and more weighted than before. Daisy set about fixing her makeup and tried to pretend like she wasn’t looking in a mirror the whole time. Kept her eyes focused like lasers. She didn’t want to know whether or not May had tears in her eyes and she knew they’d both prefer it that way so she waited for May to make an announcement before she turned herself around. Even then it was hard to look her directly in the face, just in case. 

Instead, she focused on the sounds of movement at the station: the bridal party rounding everybody up and making final preparations. After a knock on the door, Mack stuck his head inside and smiled so fondly Daisy felt her heart flutter. For a moment she feared she was about to lose it all over again, but she swiftly found her feet and grinned back and leapt out of her seat. 

She was getting _married._  

“Audience is coming in,” Mack informed them. “You ready?” 

“Uh…” Daisy glanced around the room, and snatched her bouquet of roses and peonies off a nearby counter. She clutched the stems with confidence and alertness, like a sword wielded in battle. “Now I’m ready. Let’s go.”

“Wait,” May said. Then, to Mack: “Just give us a minute.” 

He nodded, a little curious but not enough to press, and headed off to take his place in the ceremony. Daisy, rapidly climbing the emotional hill back up toward anxiety, and frustration directed at every second she had to spend separated from her very-soon-to-be wife, scowled at May – but only for a moment, until she saw the little red envelope, with gold embossing, that May was offering. She’d heard of these.

“I wasn’t sure if you’d be open to the idea,” May explained, “which is why I didn’t bring it up at the beginning of all this… but I chose red because it’s a colour of good fortune in China and- especially since you responded so well to it with the dress, I – well, it would mean a lot to me to give you this too. I don’t know how much of that side of your heritage you got to explore with your mother, or how much of it you want to keep given how things ended, but… these are my wishes for you girls. I’d be honoured if you could keep them with you.” 

“What do they say?” Daisy asked, taking the envelope reverently and pulling out the card inside, which bore three distinct symbols.

“This one means good fortune,” May explained, pointing to each one in turn. “This one is ‘double happiness’ – it’s for happiness in relationships. Happiness for two, I suppose. And this one is love.” 

Daisy smiled fondly down at them, then up at May. 

“They’re beautiful,” she said. “Thank you.”

“My pleasure,” May replied. “But we should go. Don’t want to keep Jemma waiting.”

“Of course not.” 

Daisy checked her makeup one last time, then tucked the card into her bouquet and led the way out into the foyer, where Coulson was waiting. May slipped into the main hall and signalled to the musician, and that age-old march began to play. Coulson, chest puffed and beaming with pride, held out an elbow. Daisy took it – and took a deep breath – and the doors opened and she stepped out onto the carpet and all she could see was Jemma. 

Jemma, draped in a flowing golden dress and adorned with an understated sprinkle of rubies that altogether made her look like some sort of fairy queen. Jemma, whose breath caught for a moment when she finally saw Daisy, and whose face lit up in a smile so resplendent Daisy could have happily died on the spot. Jemma, who made the short walk an easy eternity until Daisy was standing right beside her, knowing that even though every heartbeat shook her chest, she had never set foot on more solid ground. 

“Dearly beloved,” the celebrant began at last, “we are gathered here today…”


End file.
